So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them . . . Then God saw everything that He had made, and indeed it was very good. — Genesis 1:27, 31

What turns the crank on your imagination? Perhaps stimulating conversations do. . .

Nancy B. from Spokane, WA. She will be attending Imagine in Spokane on September 17-18, 2010. Congratulations, Nancy! We'll see you in Spokane.

It had been two days since many of the children had any clean water to drink. The smell of dirty diapers filled the air, and as the rusted orange gate in front of the Bresma Orphanage rolled open, the eager eyes of more than one hundred children stared back at us. Their caretakers looked haggard and tired, but managed to smile weakly as we approached the orphanage with relief goods.

We had spent several hours driving around the maze of streets in this Port-au-Prince neighborhood, desperately trying to find the orphanage. With phone lines still down in most parts of the city, the only thing we had to go on was a text message from a woman in the United States sent 24 hours earlier, pleading for us to help these children.

"We are trying to get help for an orphanage in Port-au-Prince," it read. "150 kids, almost all infants and toddlers, many with diarrhea. No food, no water . . . Fear losing smallest."

I was surprised to get a message like this from a stranger, but her plea was heartbreaking and desperate enough that I couldn't ignore it. The next day, a group of World Vision employees and I gathered food, water, and medical supplies for the children, then journeyed out to their home in Delmas, Port-au-Prince.

The orphanage was small — just four rooms, a courtyard, and a basement — but it was fairly clean. This little home that originally housed more than 60 children now held over 100, having taken in additional children after their orphanage was damaged in the quake.

As we approached the gates, a boy walked up to me almost instantly. He snuggled up to my legs and lifted his arms in the air, looking up in eager anticipation for a hug or someone to hold him. His feet were bare, and he wore a small pair of navy blue shorts and an old yellow t-shirt. I reached down, pulled him up to my hips, and held him as we walked into the orphanage.

Dozens of healthier children played outside in the courtyard. Their clothes were old and many of them didn't have any shoes, but they smiled as they played. As we entered the tiny room off of the courtyard, it became clearer why this woman had so desperately sought relief for the orphanage from me, despite never meeting me.

Several small babies were tucked into chairs, vacant stares in their glassy eyes. They didn't make a sound, but just sat there, quiet and listless. On a mat to my right, half a dozen small children in white t-shirts and diapers lay on the mat, arms curled up next to them, motionless. Their arms were thin and weak, and they barely managed to lift their heads up when our group entered. On the other side of the room, just next to the door, one little girl laid with her head on her arms, skinny legs tucked under her, completely still. She did not look well. Things got worse as we walked further into the orphanage.

Cries broke the darkness of this next room. It was nearly 5 p.m. in Haiti, and the sun had started to set. Without power, the orphanage started to grow darker and darker, but the children's cries persisted. Many of them were sharing cribs with other children, and the sickest children, suffering from severe diarrhea, malnutrition, and dehydration, were lying in another crib closer to the window. Everywhere we went, children followed us, curious by the color of our skin, our soft hair, and the cameras that hung around our necks.

As I continued to hold the little boy in my arms, another boy, a few years older, stood on the table next to me, and started playing with my hair. I looked at him, and he smiled, pulled back a strand of hair and just looked back at me with contentment, despite the dismal conditions of his "home."

One of the caregivers, Charitable Milfort, said the orphanage had been buying bottled water and food from the local markets, but skyrocketing prices were making it impossible for the orphanage to provide for all of the children.

She told us that the children — and the staff — hadn't had any water to drink for more than 2 days. Food was running low, and the food they had wasn't enough to feed every hungry mouth. They had no IVs left and no IV fluid to help rehydrate some of the weakest children, but they had been attempting to give them oral rehydration solution (ORS) made of water, sugar, and salt to try to strengthen their tiny bodies. Things were getting desperate.

After learning about the needs of the orphanage, our team unloaded the supplies from the back of the truck, including boxes of "meals ready to eat" (MREs) for the children. Each MRE contained protein like chicken, rice, bread, and a little dessert. Nearly 10 crates of water bottles followed, only a temporary solution to their problem. How would they care for all of these children? What would they do with the weakest children who needed serious medical care?

As we started to leave, the staff crowded around us, shaking our hands and kissing our cheeks gratefully. It was the first time I had seen Charitable smile as she looked at me and said, "Merci, merci beaucoup!"

I put down the little boy that I had held so tightly all afternoon, and I turned to leave. For some reason, I don't remember what his face looked like, but I remember how sure he was of his longing for affection and how tightly he held onto my neck that afternoon.

The car was silent as we drove through the darkness to the World Vision compound. What will happen to him and the other children? I prayed as we made our way back. I hope that the food and water we provided is enough to nourish them. At least for one more day.

— Laura Blank

World Vision is a Christian humanitarian organization dedicated to working with children, families, and their communities worldwide to reach their full potential by tackling the causes of poverty and injustice.